Food on film a big draw for some

Food lovers notice the apple of their eye has become a film genre. These culinary flicks are hot and surefire: Even if the plot sucks, and it often does, well, we’re there for the food.

Jim Hillibish

Being a foodie at the movies — total hell. I am so hungry after the first scene of “Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs,” I run for a kraut dog and a large Coke ($8).

Food lovers notice the apple of their eye has become a film genre. These culinary flicks are hot and surefire: Even if the plot sucks, and it often does, well, we’re there for the food.

We get chefs at every spatula turn, mobsters murdering piles of food, chocolate fetishes by the box and extreme desires to throw tomatoes. We don’t go to watch Meryl Streep and Jack Nicholson have sex, it’s the spaghetti carbonara afterward, darnit.

Producers realize hey, food is cheaper than car chases or interplanetary combat. They know we cry in drippy scenes, especially with bearnaise sauce. The rat in “Ratatouille” is not mourning an alien who goes home; this time it’s a French chef.

They’ve obviously run out of sensuous images. For the first time in history, we are weary of exceptionally sexy people swapping Juicy Fruit. Food always is sensuous and can be relied upon, the true recipe for passion.

We all understand food, but not so love. We identify with, crave and feel comfortable with food, all elements of a fulfilling flick. These, too, are elements we seek in our own kitchen labors.

Food allusions explode in movies, drawing us like so many ants to the peanut butter. One suspects they first thought up the title “Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs” and then wrote the script.

You can taste the thought process. Let’s do a film on morality. Boring. Morality in a chocolate shop, a truffle for your trifle. Whatever boils your noodle.

You know a confirmed trend when the trend spins off its own literary trend, hence: “The Star Wars Cookbook: Wookiee Cookies and Other Galactic Recipes.”

You need a bible: “Food, Film and Culture, a Genre Study.” Jim Keller argues culinary imagery ranks with sex and violence in making audiences sweat.

Helen Shugart, a professor of communication at the University of Utah, communicates that she sees a “growing conversation regarding the symbolic role and rhetorical function of mediated representations of food.” Makes me want to mediate a meat loaf.

Food is an instant rhetorical filmic device, a way to stimulate our fantasies. The same is true for our taste buds. What if his catches on in real life? What if your shrink had a buffet? Hey, I’d go.

Big-screen food definitely can be suggestive, like a well-placed chocolate cannoli. I figure a tasty scene will double the take from the snack counter. “Eat Drink Man Woman” screams “extra butter.”

I try not to watch foodie flicks at home, but this is getting more difficult, since all movies now have at least one obligatory food scene. This can be dangerous (fattening) with that pause button handy. I know this because I recently was watching “Kitchen Stories” (2003) and ate my way through two bags of Cheetos.

Of course, Hollywood always takes good things too far. In “Delicatessen” (1991), allegedly a comedy, a cannibalistic butcher literally serves his customers until thwarted by a band of vegetarian freedom fighters. French, of course.

Can there be an ultimate food movie? “Julie and Julia” comes close. The life of Julia Child in a stunning and satisfying bio pic. Be sure to catch it. It’s delicious.

Beat the butter, brown sugar, and granulated sugar until blended and creamy. Beat in the eggs and vanilla extract. Add the flour mixture and stir until blended. Stir in the chocolate chips.

Scoop up a rounded tablespoonful of the dough and drop onto a baking sheet. Repeat until you have used up all the dough. Be sure to leave about 1 inch between the cookies because they spread as they bake.

Bake until golden brown, about 10 minutes in a 375-degree oven. Makes about three dozen.

Source: “The Star Wars Cookbook” by Robin Davis

The Repository

Never miss a story

Choose the plan that's right for you.
Digital access or digital and print delivery.